It’s not the purpose of this blog to go on rants about life’s little frustrations. After all, its stated purpose is to ‘embrace’ life in the country and I really believe that’s the way to go. No-one wants to read a whole lot of negative, bellyaching posts about petty everyday frustrations. These tend to tell you more about the bellyacher anyway – and who wants to be that guy? 

That said, there are some things in life that deserve a good rant when they fall below even the most minimal of expectations – and I, ladies and gentlemen, am happy to be that guy.

Which brings me to setting up your home wi-fi. That is, setting up your home wi-fi having moved from a nation’s capital city, where all is fibreoptic and awesome, to the country, where it’s a good old-fashioned ADSL line. 

Add to this moving to the country during a time of global pandemic when call centres aren’t operating and companies are relying more and more on chatbots to ‘help’ customers desperate to stay in touch with the outside world.

It’s not lost on me that until recently, I was the one writing all those reassuring notes about ‘the unprecedented COVID-19 pandemic’ and how ‘our priority is the safety of our customers and staff’ – so I do get that this is the priority. But wow, how inadequate these measures are when you’re stuck and can’t find an actual human to speak to.

So Corner Cottage was renovated a few years ago after being occupied by an elderly gentleman who probably didn’t have much use for the internet. It sat empty for a few years, and then we bought it and inserted some tenants – resourceful folk who used a mobile modem and seemed very happy with it.

This means that the phone line into the cottage has been disconnected for a few years and we needed Telstra to come out and activate it. Enter Scotty, a large, genial, ginger-bearded fellow who was all “no worries” and “too easy”, brushing off the chaos in the house with, “I’m usually only needed when people are moving in mate – I’m used to it.”

Scotty was wearing shorts – on a morning where the temperature at sunrise was -2 degrees Celsius. I thought this boded well for his dedication. We chatted as he worked: I asked whether he was from Canberra. “Naw, I’m from Scott’s Point mate. Scotty from Scott’s Point – you can’t make that shit up.” He got the phone line sorted and assured us that we could hook up our existing modem for seamless service. And he was off, shorts and all. 

Thus began the issue. I hooked up the modem. The network appeared on my device. I joined it. But it did not work.

Just what triple-plated polyunsaturated moron decided on that logo? More to the point, just who is the dinosaur in this scenario?

I went through the online set-up guide. It did not work. I ran down the high street to get a new ADSL cable. It did not work. Yes, I turned it off and on again. Many times. But it did not work.

Finally, having exhausted my options, I looked for a number to call. But our provider has closed their call centre ‘due to the unprecedented COVID-19 pandemic’. They offered the services of their bot. Which referred me to the online articles I’d already read – over and over. It began to feel like one of those dystopian fables so beloved of Kafka. I became whimsical, briefly, and tested the bot’s knowledge of broader existential issues.

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Throughout, a red light on the modem told me the internet was not pouring its goodness into every corner of my home. Perhaps Scotty had been wrong? I phoned Telstra. It referred me to a bunch of resources I’d already consulted. I waited. I waited nine minutes. A person finally spoke!

“Hello – I’m trying to set up my home wi-fi and Scotty came in this morning to activate the line but it still won’t work.”

“The line was activated this morning? It should work.”

“Ah yes, indeed it should. But it doesn’t.”

“You need to contact your internet provider.”

“I have done that but I wondered if it was the line was at fault.”

“You say our technician set it up today? Then it should work.”

“Yes. But here we are – it doesn’t.”

“ You need to contact your service provider.”

I draw a veil over the rest of this scintillating dialogue. We’ve all been there. I’m currently hooked up to a mobile modem which is slowly bankrupting the family while it provides access to Netflix, email and this blog. The red light remains on the other modem.

I’m sure it’s a minor setback and we’ll be happily networked to a non-bankrupting wi-fi plan. But while we wait, I have to question that modern mantra, “we’re all in this together” – I’m not in it while my wi-fi is down. You can banish me to the country and I’ll embrace it – but for the love of God, banishing me from the Web is downright inhumane.